We Could Be Closer
by missAmberly
Summary: Heero surprises Duo for Chritmas


**Notes: **This was written for space_dementia49, as a holiday giftfic! Many, many thanks to tinadoodle, makodreamafar, and meirannataku, my lovely and wonderful betas.

**Warnings**: Fluff! Yaoi! Present Tense!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Gundam Wing

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The last person Duo expects to see on his doorstep the night before Christmas is Heero. Duo swallows, then grins quickly, the expression staining his face like wine. Heero doesn't miss the faint flicker of disbelief and surprise, snuffed out like a flame. He offers his own, quieter grin, shifting his bag on to his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Heero's voice is like the snow coating the ground: soft, cold, comforting. Right, given the season. Duo nods, laughing and stepping back, opening the door wider, giving him entrance. Heero steps in to the tiny apartment and stills, looking around.

"It's not much, but it's home," Duo grins, voice bright like tinsel. It suits him, Heero thinks, setting his bag on the floor. The apartment does not. It's a studio, with white walls and a faded, bland couch. There are no decorations at all. No pictures. Christmas lights. Heero turns, watching as Duo swallows, hands busy with the hem of his shirt.

"Haven't had time to find a tree," Duo answers his question before he can ask. The braided man flashes a quick grin, grabbing his coat and tugging Heero's arm. "Come on. We can go find one together!" He wants Heero out of the apartment. It's bare, he knows, empty of himself, and Heero will notice before anyone else would. Heero finds himself dragged outside in to the winter before he can protest. He doesn't need a tree. He came for Duo.

They're gone for hours. Heero is cold, and tired, his nose frozen. They climb the stairs to Duo's apartment, Duo chattering away. It's empty, and Heero knows it. He's not going to shatter the illusion, yet. It's been a slow seep, all day, the sudden knowledge that Duo is lonely. Has been alone. Heero can hear it in the soft excitement coating his words, the continuous touches to his hand and shoulder. As if Duo can't believe he's really here. As if Heero's going to disappear on him. Heero wonders how many people _have_ disappeared.

They settle in front of a small Christmas tree that evening. It's decorated haphazardly, and Heero smiles as he remembers Duo's excitement at finally having his own tree. The way the braided man had thrown himself in to the decorating, singing and laughing and faking a cheer that almost felt real. They're eating sandwiches, turkey and cheese and lettuce on white bread, with soda, and chips. It's hardly Christmas food, but Heero wasn't going to spoil the moment. Turning his head, he catches Duo's violet gaze as it runs over his face. Duo's cheeks turn pink, and Heero grins a bit. He caught Duo staring. Again. It's been his favorite game, all afternoon.

"Have you heard from Quatre?" Heero asks, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on the coffee table. Duo shakes his head, looking lost, and sad. Tilting his head, Heero runs his eyes over him, then nods in sudden understanding. Quatre's been busy with W.E.I. Trowa's with the Cirucs. Wufei's with Preventers. Heero—Heero had dropped off the face of the earth. He feels a twinge of regret. Leaning over, he nudges Duo with his shoulder.

"He's probably busy. His father had huge feet." His lips quirk slightly as Duo laughs, getting his joke and nudging back. They don't talk about the others again. Instead, Duo crawls over to lean against Heero, and Heero lets him. When Duo sets a small, brightly wrapped package on Heero's lap, the wing pilot is amazed. He has no idea when Duo found the time to get this for him. He stares in wonder, first at Duo, and then at the present. He's never received a present before.

Slowly, Heero opens it, fingers trembling as they gently untie the ribbon. The braided man next to him makes a small noise of impatience, but smiles. It's like Heero to be so careful, even when unwrapping a present. And then the wooden box is bare on Heero's lap, and he strokes the warm lid gently. It feels important, this gift. Inside if something...Heero's not sure how to explain the foreboding and excitement he's feeling. He opens the box, holding his breath, eyes going saucer wide.

Next to him, Duo is quivering with excitement. He's not sure if Heero will like this, the salvaged piece of their past together. But Duo's a salvager, and sentimental at heart, and he couldn't not give them to Heero, when he found them, after the war and after their suits had been all but completely destroyed. When Heero reaches in to the box, pulling out a thin, metallic feather, his breath catches at the look of wonder on his face. He remembers why he kept them so long.

"You...these are from..." Heero can't speak, blue eyes fixed on the metal in his hands. Somehow, Duo had managed to get a handful of feathers from Wing. They're small, but they're enough. He runs his fingers over the pieces, shaking his head in wonder, then sets the box down. Turning, Heero cups Duo's cheek, leaning in and kissing him full on the mouth. Duo freezes, then responds, needy hands sliding in to Heero's hair, clutching as he presses froward, in to the warm body he'd missed so much for so long. When they break, they're both panting, cheeks flushed, lips full and red like pomegranate. Duo's lips are stolen fruit, and Heero knows he's bought himself the best kind of imprisonment.

"I didn't get you anything," He whispers, lips tracing the skin along Duo's jaw, skin he's always wanted to know. Duo laughs, soft, soothing, head tilting back slightly, hand firmly at the back of Heero's head.

"You came." It's enough.


End file.
